


these bodies of ours

by sergeant_angel



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, body issues, but also like fluffy, do i fucking write anything without ptsd in it, i just couldn't stop thinking about this today, in which the author works through some of their personal issues, it's fine it's ok, look fam i don't know, post-endgame thorkate, thicc thor, this just in: thor and kate will have sex any-fucking-where
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 10:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeant_angel/pseuds/sergeant_angel
Summary: After Thanos is gone for good, Kate and Thor deal with missing five years, with body issues, and talking about feelings.Look, it's ThorKate smut with feelings, ok?





	these bodies of ours

**Author's Note:**

> me: what if we worked on a wip  
> muse: what if we did not do that at fucking all

“It’s been how long?”

“Five...uh...five years,” Billy says.

“Oh.” Kate’s heart is somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach and her stomach is around her knees. “That’s, uh. That’s a long time.”

“You have no idea.” Billy sniffles and gathers Kate up in a bone-crushing hug. “I missed you so much, Kate. We all did.”

Kate melts into the comfort of Billy’s hug, trying to wrap her mind around that, that she remembers their—apparently--first go-round with Thanos as being about an hour ago, and it’s been five years for everyone else. A lot can happen in five years. Like Tony having a kid and Natasha growing the blonde out and Clint going on a murdering spree and Billy and Teddy having a daughter and _naming her Kate_.

“So how is—I mean, does, did, uh, how...how is Thor? He’s okay, right?”

Billy’s brow furrows in a frown. “You haven’t seen him yet?”

“No, and like...is he avoiding me? Did he start seeing someone else, because that’s totally okay, right, because five years is a long time and you can’t ask someone to wait five years when they think you’re dead and there’s no way to bring them back, that’s just not a fair expectation--”

Billy squeezes her shoulders and gives her a Look, effectively shutting Kate up.

It’s not like this is a shock, or anything, Thor’s lifespan exists on such a completely different time scale than hers, of course he’s moved on and found someone else, Thor is so easy to love, after all, and he’s got so much to give--

“Thor did not handle you being gone well. Like. At all.”

“He’s okay, though, right? I could have sworn I saw lightning.”

…

“It’s only been five years, Katherine,” Thor says in a way that has a parenthetical _you idiot_ attached to it somewhere. Thor pretty much never talks to Kate like she’s dumb, so this must mean she’s being an absolute gremlin fool. “Five years is hardly any time at all.”

She’s followed him to New Asgard, had Valkyrie point the way to his house, and been greeted at the door by Korg and Mieks, who immediately made excuses and left. Thor hasn’t come near her, just stared at her from the other side of the kitchen.

“Barely had time to miss me, huh?”

Thor slams his fist on the countertop, making Kate jump.

“ _Never_ think that. _Never_.”

“Oo-kay,” Kate draws out the word, gathering her thoughts. “I’m confused then. If it’s not that you got over me, or that you didn’t even notice that I was gone, then what’s the deal? Why don’t you want to spend time with me, or, or--” her breath catches, stupid-like, and she hates it. “Or even _hug_ me, I get that it hasn’t been that long for me, but it has for you and you don’t even--” she cuts herself off with a shake of her head, unsure of how to finish.

Thor, for his part, looks stricken at her words. “That’s not it at all! I missed you so much, I can’t even describe it—it’s just,” he looks at his hands, still on the countertop. “I’ve changed. Physically.”

“Yeah,” Kate draws this word out, too, still unsure of her footing. “I’m kind of digging the braid in the beard, I mean, I loved the short hair, but this isn’t even just a Look, it’s a wholeass vibe.”

This does not elicit any sort of amused or vaguely positive reaction from Thor. If anything, he frowns harder.

“I did not handle your death—disappearance—well,” he says, still not looking at her. “I was depressed, I see now, and I ate my feelings, as you once said.”

Kate is clearly missing something, something absolutely horrible because what Thor is saying is absolutely not clicking in her head with something that would drive him to keep her at arm’s length, something that he seems to understand once he finally looks at her face.

“I gained weight,” he says. “I am not...what I was.”

Relief swoops through Kate and she can’t hold back a giddy, relieved laugh. “Is that all? Jesus fuck, Thor, I thought you’d gotten married or something while I was gone.” The look on his face draws her up. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but I’m over here freaking out about how much time has passed for you and losing my mind about what I did wrong or what I might be doing wrong and you’re worried that I’m not going to like your body.”

“It does sound foolish when you say it like that.”

“Nah, it’s not silly. It’s your body and if it makes you uncomfortable for me to see it, then that’s a boundary I’ll respect.” Kate shrugs. “But, you know, you still have the body of a god.”

Thor looks down at himself.

“You’re a god,” Kate explains. “Any body you have is the body of a god.”

He smiles at her. For the first time since she walked through the door, he smiles, and relief floods through her.

“I’ll try and lose weight,” he says, like a promise.

“What the fuck ever, Thor, if you want to, but if you don’t, I mean, don’t _stress_ over it.”

He comes to a decision then, taking a deep breath and walking around the kitchen island so she can see him properly.

Yes, he has gained weight. Yes, he does sort of look like Lebowski, but that’s more about wardrobe which means clothes shopping.

Yes, he is still Thor.

Kate’s whole body itches. “Can I hug you?”

He opens his arms, and Kate jumps.

The logistics of the hug are different but he’s still ridiculously fucking tall and ridiculously fucking strong and he holds her so tight Kate doesn’t think he’ll ever let go.

“I missed you,” he says into her hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“My fault. Should have gone for the head.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re ruder than I remember.”

“Shut _up_.”

Eventually—at least twenty minutes later—Thor sets her on the counter, running his fingers through her hair, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“I mean...” Kate glances around what she can see of the house. “I’m a little concerned about the amount of alcohol it seems you’ve been consuming.” She fingers a stray lock of his hair. “And I think you need to practice a little self care. But other than that—I mean, you’re Thor. You’re still Thor.”

She presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re still my hero.”

He cups her face. “As you are mine.”

..

Thor takes a shower. He specifically requests that Kate does not join him, which is a little disappointing but this is also very weird and Kate can respect that. She chills with Korg, who catches her up on things nobody wanted to tell her or thought to tell her, in that kind, calm way he has that is still utterly no-nonsense.

Thor comes back out, fully dressed, and sits in front of Kate, handing her a hairbrush.

It’s been _five years_ since they’ve done this.

Fucking...fuck.

Kate shoves that thought aside as they watch Queer Eye, as she brushes through the snarls of Thor’s long hair, as she carefully separates out sections and braids them.

Kate sets aside the brush and drapes her arms over his shoulders, nuzzling in to his neck. Still smells like Thor, like ozone and electricity and petrichor.

…

Kate didn’t really stay at Thor’s place; she mostly just didn’t leave, rifling through his dresser until she found something suitable to sleep in.

“We should go clothes shopping,” she muses. “If you want. Sometime.”

“I suppose I could use some nicer clothes,” Thor says as he lays back on the bed. “If I am to take you out on dates.”

“Dates sound nice.” Kate lays down next to him, carefully not touching. “I do like showing off my boyfriend.”

Thor hums, then falls silent, thinking.

Then he stretches very, very slowly.

Kate can take a hint, and Kate also knows her boyfriend’s bad flirting techniques, so she rolls over, pressing closer to him.

Kate curls into his side and _oh_.

She sighs with her whole body and melts into Thor a little, humming contentedly.

“Are you all right, Kate?” Thor gives her shoulder a gentle shake.

“Look,” her voice is slightly muffled by his side, so she momentarily readjusts her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way because you were, like, nice to cuddle with before, but you were also rock hard muscle and now you are...you are so _snuggly_ , Thor, oh my god.” Kate throws one of her legs over his thigh and this is probably the most comfortable she’s been in days. “If you want to go back to being all ab-a-licious that’s fine but you’re still Thor. I love you no matter what you look like.”

She falls asleep to the feel of his breathing.

...

Kate throws herself up, clawing at her arms, feeling frantic and confused, the sight of her body dissolving around her playing over and over in her head.

“Kate?” Thor is completely awake and alert, one of his big hands cupping her shoulder, the other rubbing soothing circles on her knee. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t think I’d have issues,” she says stupidly, scratching frantically at her legs. Thor catches her hands and squeezes.

“I remember,” she says after a moment, her voice hollow. “I remember turning into dust.” She shudders, feeling vulnerable and raw. She’s supposed to be the strong one. Nothing happened to _her_. She didn’t have to deal with anything, all she had to do was be snapped and then be un-snapped, not like there was any work involved on her end with _that_.

“You were murdered,” Thor tells her. “You’re allowed to be upset about that.”

She never thought about it like that.

...

They go on walks. It’s mostly to get into a routine to help with the depression, but it also gets Thor back out amongst his people. Even if he’s not their king any more, he’s still one of the last few Asgardians, and it’s important.

None of the Asgardians have seen a bicycle, so Kate winds up teaching Thor how to ride, and Valkyrie—both of whom are terrible and fall over a lot at first—and then Korg, who is, for some reason, a natural at bike riding.

Thor drinks less beer and more water and Kate drinks more water and slightly less coffee.

They share a bed but they don’t _sleep_ together and that’s okay but it’s not because Kate doesn’t know _why_ , if it’s because they aren’t communicating or if it’s because they don’t want to, and she just wants to know. She doesn’t know anything.

It’s hard. It’s hard because for Kate it’s been nothing and for Thor it’s been hell. She doesn’t know what to do sometimes, or what to say, or how to offer comfort.

Except it hasn’t been nothing for her; her feet falling asleep causes panic attacks and she has nightmares of pulling back a bowstring only her fingers dissolve as she draws it. Her body doesn’t feel like hers sometimes. Like something extraneous, detachable, wrong. What if parts of her aren't her? What if some of her dust got mixed up with someone else’s dust?

And some days it hits her—she lost five years. Five years while people she loves struggled and changed and went on with their lives. She’s missed so much. She missed Billy and Teddy’s wedding and the birth of their daughter, she missed David and Tommy finally getting together, she missed jokes and dates and movies and fights and there’s no way for her to get that back, not ever.

People she loves were hurt by her, by her absence, and she can’t erase that just by currently existing. She caused pain and she can’t uncause it. It was out of her control but it still feels like her fault.

She wraps Thor’s cape tighter around her, rocking back and forth on the hilltop, realizing with a start that she’s crying.

She’s so lost in her own misery that she doesn’t realize Thor is there until he’s pulling her into his lap, cradling her in his arms and holding her tight.

When her tears subside, when she can breathe without sobbing, he asks her _what’s wrong?_

And she tells him.

…

The go to the top of the hill every day.

They sit, facing each other, usually cross-legged, Thor with his hands on his knees, palms upraised, Kate with her hands resting on top of his.

They check in with one another, letting the other know how they are doing.

It helps. It works.

….

Thor comes back from his first post re-snap mission and Kate comes back from Hawkeye-ing and they meet at the top of the hill, because that’s what they do.

Thor is holding a picnic basket.

“Well-wishers are still sending Tony gift baskets,” Thor says by way of explanation. “Pepper insisted I leave with food so that Tony and Morgan would eat something besides spreadable cheese and fancy chocolate.”

Kate shrugs before jumping into Thor’s arms, making him carry her and the picnic basket five feet to their usual spot.

He kisses her, long and sweet and enough to make her toes curl. “You have been back for one month,” he says. “So that makes this our one month anniversary?”

“For you, maybe. For me it’s, like, a Tuesday. We’ve been together for over two uninterrupted years.”

“We can celebrate an anniversary from your perspective and the new anniversary from my perspective?”

“I could be down with that.” Kate nods. Thor sets her back on her feet as she ponders this, and he unhooks his cape and unfurls it in lieu of a blanket.

Some synapse in Kate’s brain misfires and she remembers another time—probably another cape—after a fight, lost in the woods of Oregon, fucking out all of their post-battle energy. Thor had kept the rain from touching them.

Thor does not look at her as he sets down the basket. He looks...a little too innocent, truth be told. Suspiciously innocent.

It could be that Kate is projecting. It is entirely possible.

Thor shrugs out of his armor with ease, pulling his hair back once he’s done, which is just not fucking _fair_ . Hair-pulled-back-Thor is so attractive it’s rude and offensive and it makes Kate angry and he _knows_ this and he’s _smirking._

Kate tackles him as best she can, which is not very well, but Thor falls back, lets her pin him.

“Did you need something, my lady?” he asks, looking vaguely bored.

“You’re a tease, Odinson.”

He runs his hands up her thighs, stopping halfway up and squeezing. He looks at where their bodies connect, where Kate is straddled across his chest, and licks his lips before catching her eyes. “Sorry?”

Kate groans. “Thor. Thor baby. Thor, are we going to have sex here, please? Thor?”

His brow furrows and he looks legitimately thoughtful. “I suppose—I suppose I could work that in to my busy schedule, yes.”

Kate has her suit unzipped and her arms out of the sleeves before Thor has taken a breath. She’s trying to figure out how to get Thor naked and herself simultaneously, an undertaking made all the harder by Thor _laughing_ at her, laughing so hard her precarious balance is upset and she topples to the side.

“Katherine,” Thor says as Kate attempts to take her suit off while forgetting she’s wearing boots. “Kate. _Hawkeye_.”

She looks up. “What?”

Thor presses his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth until her skin tingles and her neck tickles from the brush of his beard. He pulls off her boots for her, helps her pull her poly-kevlar-spandex-blend suit off the rest of the way. Then it’s Kate’s turn to help him, tugging and unbuckling so the rest of his armor and under-the-armor garments come off, and Kate leans in and gives his shoulder a bite. Thor’s eye sparks lightning-blue, and Kate finds herself flat on her back, staring at a cloudless sky.

...

Thor has always been a man of large appetites, something that Kate has seen firsthand on many occasions. It’s not really a surprise that food was where he sought comfort in depression. Kate’s done it.

It’s still somehow a surprise that after weeks of finding a new rhythm—after years of knowing one another—that Thor’s appetite would turn to--

Well, to her.

Namely, to Kate’s body.

Again, it’s weird that it’s a surprise, but maybe it’s not so much a surprise as a relief, of _finally_ of being on the same page , and also it’s hard to maintain a coherent thought process with Thor’s tongue doing _that_.

He has taken his time mapping her body with his teeth, a constellation of bruises across her skin, and now Thor is looking up at her from between her legs, a very, _very_ familiar gleam in his eye.

Thor moans when he finally licks into her and Kate is so wound up she can barely stand it, torn between clamping his head with her thighs and spreading her legs as wide as they will go so he will give her _more_.

And then he has the _audacity_ to pull away, to stare at her, looking about as wrecked as she feels, to say her name like a benediction as he presses shaking fingers into the dip of her hipbone, so that all she can manage is a breathless, whining _please_.

His fingers circle her clit, his eyes locked on hers, and Kate stares him down like it’s a competition that she’s not going to lose--

Thor slides two of this thick, callused fingers inside her, crooking them _just so_ , and it’s so, so good, makes her hyperaware of where her body is, all of her nerve endings, Thor’s skin touching hers, the fabric against her back and the prickle of grass through that, the pull of muscles as her legs fall open, the echo in the back of her skull as little keens wind their way through her throat.

Kate stares at the sky but doesn’t see it, her entire awareness trained on sensation. Thor slides his tongue in between his fingers; pulls his fingers out and grips her hip with them, digging into a bruise and trailing her slick over her own body.

Kate pulls air into her lungs and lets it out as a moan, and that feels good, makes everything feel better. To slice through the silence with noises she is making because of Thor. Thor, who is sucking a mark to the inside of her thigh, who groans into her when she tugs at his hair, curling a braid around her finger and stroking it. All these textures and pressures and temperatures and movements that let her know her body is real.

It’s like all of her nerves fire at once. She can feel the strain of her muscles, feel her body pulse against Thor’s tongue, the buzz of her head as she forgets to breathe, the calm as Thor draws her close, as she sinks into him, remembering all the good ways to lose track of your body.

…

Thor has that insufferably pleased look on his face and seems to think that this is Enough, while Kate is only just now discovering that Thor still has pants on.

“Hey.” She pokes him in the ribs as he reaches over her to rummage in the picnic basket. “Hey. Thor. Thor, take your pants off.”

He offers her a fancy chocolate which she eats before taking matters into her own hands, tugging at the fastenings of his pants. “Thor, I need your dick to be out, pronto.”

“I forgot how vulgar you are after sex.”

“It’s fucking _fucking_ , Thor, why would I not be vulgar?”

He smiles at her and she _finally_ gets his pants undone only to find herself on her back. Again. Being horny really does a number on her reflexes. She sits back up, helping Thor push his pants down, licking a stripe across his chest, trailing her hand down his stomach to grasp his cock.

His hand wraps around hers, his eyes shining with everything they’ve spent the last month saying to each other, _I’m glad you’re home, I’m glad you’re here, I love you, please stay, I love you--_

He slides into her, and Kate stops breathing, head tipped back.

Thor shifts, and she remembers to inhale. He shifts again, slowly settling his weight over her. There’s more weight than she remembers but it’s soft, it’s nice, it’s like Thor has always been on the inside, comforting and encompassing.

“Do you think Google earth is taking pictures right now?”

Thor muffles his laugh against her chest.

“Because they’d be taking pictures of your ass, and I don’t know if I want to share that. It’s such a--” Thor pulls out, slides back in, rubs his thumb over her nipple-- “such a _nice_ ass, Thor, like, seriously, it’s a _booty_.”

She digs her heels into his back, and there’s actually something there for her to dig in to besides fucking bone, and Thor is smiling at her before she flexes her inner muscles as best she can and then he’s groaning.

“C’mon, Thor,” she pants, because she can’t fucking shut up, “c’mon, please, I can take it, whatever you’ve got, please--”

There’s electricity in his touch as he grabs her hip, changing the angle just slightly, just enough to make Kate’s eyes roll back.

Thor’s pace has picked up. Kate is suffused with just feeling _nice_ , with enjoying the friction and the sounds and the smells when Thor manages to get his hand between their bodies, giving her clit a sharp rub and she splinters apart.

It’s nothing at all like being dusted; sharper and stronger and full of sensation where dissolving had been deadening.

And here, as her pieces slowly start to knit together, there is Thor, hand twisted in her hair kissing her, desperate and sloppy, before he thrusts into her one last time, hard and too much and perfect as he shudders against her.

In the distance, thunder rumbles.

**Author's Note:**

> they did eventually eat their picnic


End file.
